Manor on the Hill
by vadershelmet
Summary: Short stories revolving around Gotham's finest family. Some will be one-shots, others will have many chapters. Enjoy!
1. A Matter of Family

**A Matter of Family **

The black Lexus roared through the streets of Gotham City, its occupants unaffected by the bitter November air whistling through the trees of Robinson Park. Behind the wheel sat Bruce, eyes scanning the busy streets ahead. Damian and Tim were in the back, the passenger seat being filled with several charts, diagrams, and other boardroom materials, courtesy of Wayne Enterprises. The trio was dressed immaculately, black suits and ties befitting of a billionaire and his sons. Bruce was silently thanking God that the boys hadn't caused an incident back at the office, and had been relatively quiet all day. Suddenly, Bruce's thoughts were halted with a sharp command from the back. "Get your feet off me, brat." Tim said, shoving Damian's outstretched legs off of his lap.

"Make me." Damian sneered, returning to his previous position. Tim growled in irritation and shoved Damian's legs again, but with more force than before. Damian promptly kicked Tim in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

"Tt. Serves you right, Drake." Damian said haughtily, until his victory was cut short by Tim's fist colliding with his arm. The fight continued for several minutes, until Bruce's knuckles became white from gripping the steering wheel. He could already feel a headache forming.

"_Boys._" he said sharply, causing their heads to snap forward. They immediately rocketed away from each other, sitting stiffly in their respective seats.

"We were just playing, Father." Damian said meekly.

"I'm not. Don't make stop this car, Damian." he ordered.

"Yes sir." the boy said weakly, slumping against the seat. From the corner of his eye, he could see the smirk on Drake's face. He clenched his fists tightly. It was all Drake's fault. He had ruined the entire trip with his mere presence. Damian had longed for the chance to be alone with his Father, to show him how valuable he could be, both as himself and Robin. But it seemed that everything he said only disappointed his father. Grayson and Drake always joked with his father, and made him smile. Damian longed for that, but his father only saw a disappointment, a mistake. Damian knew that his father would eventually cast him aside, just like his mother had. Batman had no use for a rebellious Robin. Damian had been absorbed in his own thoughts, and just heard the tail end of something Drake had said. His father was chuckling now, and it made Damian feel sick. He'd never be good enough in his father's eyes. Seething with rage, he lashed out at the closest target.

Tim gave an involuntary yelp when Damian's shoe connecter with his shin. It hadn't hurt that much, but he had been surprised by the sudden attack. The car came to a screeching halt at the curb outside the park. Tim glanced at Damian, seeing a look of terror on his young face. He honestly felt bad for the kid. He had seldom seen Bruce angry, and never wanted to relive the experience. And Damian was about to get it in full force. Bruce slammed his door shut, and walked around to Damian's side. "_Get out." _he ordered, shoving the boy's coat into his arms.

"W-wait, F-father…" he trembled, realizing his massive mistake. Bruce grabbed his arm, yanked him out of the car, and practically shoved him in the direction of the park. Bruce's hand had an iron grip on his shoulder, and Damian could almost feel the waves of anger rolling off his father. "Father, you're h-hurting my a-arm." he quivered, trying desperately to loosen Bruce's grip. But his father didn't relent, and guided him towards a bench near the grand fountain. Damian recognized the spot. Grayson had brought him here often, whenever he wanted to have a serious discussion. They had always gotten ice cream afterwards. Damian would never admit it, but he had cherished those times the most. He would give anything for Grayson's welcoming embrace and gentle smile right now. His eyes began to sting. Here he was, almost twelve years old, being punished like a misbehaving toddler. Tears began to roll down his face. He wasn't some pathetic child, he wasn't! Finally, his father sat him down on the bench and stared him straight in the eye.

Bruce felt slightly guilty when he noticed Damian's distraught face. He wanted the boy to like him, to love him not because he had to, but because he _wanted _to. And Damian tried so hard to get his attention. But more often than not, he used Talia's methods, causing chaos and destruction. Bruce disliked punishing his son, but it seemed like those were the only things he responded to. "Would you like to tell me why you're so intent on hurting Tim?" he asked, trying not to pull the boy into an embrace. Damian shook his head, and then let out a shameful sob. He buried his head in Bruce's broad chest, sobbing and gasping for breath. Bruce was dumbfounded at first. Damian never showed emotion like this. He buried everything inside until it transformed into anger, which he knew how to weaponize far too well. He held Damian like he had Dick and Jason, rocking him gently while rubbing small circles in his back. Eventually, his sobs became small hiccups, and Bruce shifted the boy in his lap. "Would you like to answer my question now?" he asked, trying to be gentle and not upset his son again. Damian paused a moment, then nodded.

"Well, it's-um, it's because…" he trailed off. Bruce nudged him gently, urging him to continue. Damian inhaled deeply. "You love him more than me." he accused, wiping his eyes on his sleeve before more tears could escape.

"That's ridiculous. I don't love any one of you more than the others." Bruce said, troubled by Damian's accusation.

"But you do! You never tell me that you're proud, or that you love me, or anything!" he screamed, drawing the attention of several onlookers. "Everyone hates me! You, mother, Drake, everyone!" he raged, more tears flowing from his eyes. Bruce was stunned. How could he have been so blind? He had known Damian was different from the other Robins; they had all understood when Bruce was proud without having to hear it. But he had known that Damian needed constant praise, always seeking attention. How many times had he witnessed Dick wrap his arms around the boy, and told him directly: "I love you." or "I'm proud of you." And yet Bruce had fallen into his old ways of silence and stoicism, never realizing how much the boy had been hurting. _But you did, _a voice accused. _You threw the drawings into the fire. You saw everything. You're entirely to blame. _It was right. He had known, but he had ignored it because he didn't know how to help. Damian was so different, so difficult to talk to.

"Damian." Bruce said softly. "Look at me, boy." he said, cupping his son's small chin in his hand. "You make me so proud, every time I see you. You're trying so hard to be a good boy; despite everything you've been taught. I'm sorry for not being there for you all these years. But I'm trying to be a good father now, and I'm afraid. I'm afraid that you don't like me, that nothing I say matters. I'm afraid…..that you prefer Dick over me." Damian was shocked. His father was _proud _of him. His father _loved _him. This was so different from anything his mother had taught him, but if fit with Grayson's description perfectly. He had never believed Dick when he told him that Bruce had a softer side. Batman was not _soft._ But he realized that Batman was not his father. Bruce Wayne was.

Damian leaned closer until his moth was next to Bruce's ear. He whispered, as children often do when they're embarrassed or confused. "I love you, Father." He said, wrapping his thin arms around Bruce's neck.

"I love you too, Damian. Now let's get going. I can't feel my fingers anymore." he said, poking playfully at Damian's ribs. The boy giggled as Bruce carried him back to the waiting car. "I want you to apologize to Tim when we get back." he said. Damian's smile deflated a little.

"But Father…" he whined.

"No buts, little one." Damian sulked as Bruce opened the back door and place Damian in his seat. He grabbed an old blanket from the trunk and handed it to the boy, who wrapped himself up quickly. Bruce returned to the driver's seat and looked at Damian expectantly.

Damian cleared his throat. "I apologize for my behavior earlier, Drake." Tim was bewildered. He wondered what exactly had happened to make the demon child apologize to him, of all people.

"I'm sorry for pushing your legs." he offered, trying to be as genuine as possible.

"I accept, on one condition." Damian said imperiously. Tim groaned. "You will play Xbox with me when we get back." he commanded. Tim's jaw dropped. Since when….? _Just go with it, Tim. _he told himself mentally.

"Um, okay?" he said, hoping for peace.

"Excellent." Damian said with satisfaction, crossing his arms as he settled more comfortably into his seat. Eventually, he stretched his legs on to Tim's lap again. Tim looked over and saw Damian's head loll to the side, finally succumbing to sleep. Tim rolled his eyes and saw Bruce chuckling from the front. These kids were going to be the death of him. But he wouldn't have it any other way. 


	2. The Spirit of the Season

**The Spirit of the Season **

_I am a friggin' genius, _thought Dick Grayson as he prowled the halls of the Manor, searching for his youngest brother. He had concocted a scheme so brilliant, so mind-numbingly excellent, that it had to be enacted _now. _Finally, he came upon Damian, sprawled on the floor amidst a little nest of paper and crayons, fast asleep. Before he moved any closer, Dick pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. If his plan fell through, he could always rely on a good old-fashioned bribe to get the job done. Dick knelt down, wincing as his knees cracked, and gently shook the boy's shoulder. "Damian. Hey, Damian. Wake up, kiddo." he said gently.

"Mm….Grayson? Wud're you doin'?" he slurred, rubbing at his eyes.

"I need you to sign this for me." he said, trying to keep a straight face. Everything was going exactly as planned.

"M'kay." the boy yawned, reaching for a blue crayon. He lazily signed his name on the bottom of Dick's paper, then laid his head back down and promptly fell back to sleep. Dick pumped his fist in the air, screaming silently over his victory. He picked Damian up, laid him on the couch, and ran towards the stairs, ready to make his final preparations. As he was running, he unfurled the paper, which now certified that Damian Wayne would accompany himself and Timothy Drake wherever they so desired, on the evening of October 31st. In a costume. Dick allowed himself to laugh now. This was his best idea ever.

Bruce checked himself over in the mirror one more time. He looked like a pretty fearsome pirate, if he had to say so himself. He had been looking forward to spending Halloween reading by the fire, not at the Wayne Enterprises 23rd Annual Halloween Party. He found the whole thing to be idiotic, as it would also take up time that should be used for patrol. What if the Scarecrow enacted some sinister plan, and he was stuck at some ridiculous party. _All the more reason to stay home, _he thought glumly. But Alfred had forced his hand on this one, citing Bruce Wayne's lack of public appearances since his return from the timestream. Just then, his musings were interrupted by a series of crashes and shouts from somewhere inside the house. "Go to Hell, Grayson! I'm not coming with you for some insipid holiday, or your twisted sense of 'fun'!" Damian stormed through the kitchen, Dick and Tim close on his heels. Tim had a shopping bag in his hands, a grin plastered on his face. "Father," Damian whined, "they're forcing me to do something against my will!" Bruce hadn't the faintest idea why there was such a racket going on, or why Damian had run to him for help. Damian would sooner cut his arm off than request any kind of assistance.

"We're just making sure Dami holds up his end of an agreement." Tim said innocently, handing Bruce a sheet of paper. His eyes grazed over it quickly, his smile growing until he reached the blue signature at the bottom. Damian was looking up at him, hoping his father could get him out of this underhanded trap.

"Well, Damian, it looks like they've got you caught. You're going to have to follow through with what you agreed to." Bruce said, trying to look solemn. Damian's face fell, then burned red.

"B-but…" he began, desperate for some kind of loophole.

"Sorry, Lil' D. You signed your name right here. Maybe next time you'll read first." Dick said, chuckling.

"You tricked me!" Damian accused.

"Why, I did no such thing! How could you accuse me of such a horrendous crime!?" Dick cried, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. Damian's jaw twitched in anger, desperately searching for a rebuttal. Tim placed the bag in Damian's arms, then patted him on the head.

"Your clothing, sir." he said, struggling to contain his laughter. This was the best day of his life. Damian huffed and stormed off to the bathroom.

"You do realize I won't protect you when he come back." Bruce said, amused.

"Relax, Bruce." Dick said. "I've got everything under control."

Fifteen minutes later, Damian still hadn't emerged from the bathroom. Dick was just about to go and look for him, when Damian padded into the kitchen. He was dressed as a kitten, complete with a tail, a hood with cat ears, and a little nose with whiskers. "Well aren't you just pwecious!" Tim cooed, now dressed as a burglar. Damian's face burned red, and he cast his eyes to the floor.

"Whatever." he snarled, crossing his arms. Dick, dressed as a giant robin, took several more pictures on his phone.

"Looks like I found our Christmas card!" Damian wished he had heat vision like Superman, so he could incinerate both Drake and Grayson where they stood.

"Can we just get this over with?" he moaned. The sooner he completed Grayson's pathetic tasks, the sooner he could take this ridiculous outfit off. And then burn it.

"Alright, alright. First, we score some candy. Then, we go to the party at the WE building, and then we come back here and hang out. Then, and only then, you may remove your costume." Dick said, reading from the contract.

"Come on, my little kitten." Tim cooed, grabbing Damian's little paw. We've got the whole night ahead of us."

**Just a little story to get you all in the Halloween spirit. I'll post part two in a few days. Remember to R and R!**


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